


Bad Kind of Butterflies

by DanceOnYourWords



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanceOnYourWords/pseuds/DanceOnYourWords
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is smart and hardworking, with amazing friends and even more amazing boyfriend, Luka Couffaine. One day, a boy meets her in her dreams, sending butterflies in her stomach and into her life, not to mention a total disruption of her personal life. Who is this mysterious boy, and what does he want from her?~Based on Camila Cabello's song of the same title~
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Kudos: 9





	1. I've got bad, bad, bad kind of butterflies

Marinette was sitting in a field, covered in flowers but strangely no smell in the air. A purple butterfly floated past her, seemingly unaffected by the rain that was coating her in a cold embrace. She pulled a hand up to tug at her hair, which was hanging down instead of the customary pigtails that she insisted on wearing them in. Rain pattered onto her head, dousing her face to the point where she could barely see. Rubbing the drops out of her eyes, she brushed her navy hair off her face and stood up.  
Marinette didn’t feel any sort of panic as she stood, letting a pale pink dress that suspiciously resembled a tablecloth fall around her ankles and hang off her shoulders. She tugged it closer, the rain making it cling to her skin and send chills down her skin. What was going on? She spun around, disturbing the purple sparkles that hung, suspended in the air, before a shape moved right where her field met the trees.  
And there, she saw it. Him. A boy with messy blonde hair and flashing green eyes, staring at her from across the field. She didn’t recognize him, but the way she felt was something foreign.  
“Hey, Marinette.” He extended out his arm, offering her a black umbrella. It shone in the moonlight, a covering of purple dust veiling across the top of it. He gave her a sly smile and chills shot up her back, not only from the rain.  
She tilted her head to the side and tried to make out his face, but the heavy raindrops weren’t giving her any help. She reached out her hand, and suddenly the drops vanished.  
She sat up straight, gasping for air. What a weird dream. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and squeezed her eyes, dropping herself back on her pillow.  
She made an attempt to rest for just a few more minutes when her mother’s voice rang up the stairs.  
“Hurry up, Marinette! You’re going to be late for school.!”  
“Sorry, Mom!” Marinette crossed the room in a hurry, pulling on a pink tank top decorated with flowers and a black skirt. She grabbed a sweater from the door and threw it on at the last moment, stepping down the stairs.  
“Here, sweetie. I made some croissants.” Her father handed her one of the pastries as she hopped down the stairs. “Thanks, Papa,” she said, placing a peck on his cheek. “I’ll be back later tonight. I’m studying with the girls tonight.”  
“Alright, honey. Have a great day.”  
“Thanks, guys, love you!” She raced out of the door and across the street, the croissant held in her mouth. “God, I cannot be late again.”  
“Girl…” Alya stood in front of the steps, impatiently tapping her foot. “I swear you’re going to make me late too.” She stood in an orange dress, her hair pooling around her shoulders, giving the perfect frame to her face.  
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know,” Mari said with a smile, nudging her with a shoulder. “I had the weirdest dream last night, though.”  
“Oh yeah? What about? I’m hoping it was about him.” Alya wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive way as they headed up the flight of stairs into the school, waving at Juleka and Rose as they passed.  
“Please, I didn’t even know him,” she said around a bite of croissant before colliding headfirst with a broad chest.  
Hands fell around her shoulders, blocking her from falling over for probably the millionth time this year. “Hi, Marinette.”  
“Luka,” she said, breathless. She smiled and pushed back a wayward hair from his face. “Hi.”  
He gave her a light kiss and pulled away, settling next to her and Alya with an arm around her shoulder. “I heard about a dream?”  
“She was just about to tell us before you so rudely interrupted,” teased Alya. “Let a girl finish.”  
Luka raised a waiting eyebrow at her, his other hand resting in his sweatshirt pocket. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”  
“You know what? I barely remember.” Marinette didn’t know why she didn’t want to tell him, and she ducked down her head, avoiding his gaze. She pulled off her sweater, suddenly hot, and hung it up in her locker.  
“Okay.” He retracted his arm from around her shoulders to lean against one of the classroom columns and cast a focused glance at her. “Are you ready for your test?”  
“Uhm, test. Haha, yeah. Totally.” She slammed her locker shut and gave then a sheepish smile.  
“You didn’t-” Alya gaped at her. Her orange tips flicked around her shoulders, a small breeze washing in from the open roof of the school.  
“Sorry, I’ve been distracted.” She giggled and looked back, a purple butterfly darting out of the corner of her eye. Huh? She traced it across the courtyard and out the front door. A sense of deja vu washed over her. Where had she seen that butterfly before?  
“Marinette? Speak of distracted. It’s time for class.” Alya pulled her away from Luka and in the direction of her chem class.  
“I’ll catch you later, Marinette,” he said, giving her a little wave.  
She waved goodbye and righted herself, hurrying after the always-faster Alya. She swung into the classroom and plopped down in a seat, placing her bookbag down by her side. It was a good thing she was good at chem, or else her grades would be doomed. She rolled her shoulders back and grabbed a pencil, but the worrying butterfly flew into her thoughts again. Where are you from? She chewed her lip and twirled the pencil around her fingers.  
“Don’t stress about it Dupain-Cheng.” Chloe gave her a glossy smile from beside her. She smiled back. After Chloe had shown up at the bakery door one day, distraught over her mother leaving once again, they had found some kind of solace in a new friendship. Alya still wasn’t happy about that.  
Thanks, Chlo.”  
“Mhm. Besides, we both know the only reason I’m barely passing is because your answers always suspiciously match mine.” She let out a small giggle and tightened her ponytail. “We both know that chem doesn’t count as a real class.”  
Mari rolled her eyes. “Of course. Now get focused.”


	2. Come Here and Sit Next to Me

“How was it?” Alya nudged Mari’s side as they walked out the door. She brushed her now slightly messier hair into a bun, blowing out a puff of air. “I really should start studying more often.”  
“Well, you were at Nino’s last night. We can’t really expect you to get any actual work done,” teased Mari nudging her right back.  
Alya gave her a knowing smirk as Mari’s phone pinged. She glanced down and grabbed onto Alya’s arm.  
“Oh, Luka’s at the cafe across the street. Want to come with?”  
“I thought we weren’t supposed to go there? Conflict of interest?”  
“Please, I can’t have my parents spying on me every hour of the day. A girl needs her privacy!”  
They swapped out their bookbags for their jackets and stepped down the stairs, narrowly avoiding the horrible cafeteria lunch.  
“M! Come here!” Luka waved her over and Mari smiled, pulling Alya along, who needed no prompting when they spotted Nino already at the table.  
Mari sat down with a huff and shrugged off her sweater. “Hi, babe.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek as he passed her a sandwich. “Hi, Nino. How’s your day going?”  
“Hey, dude! Fine, I guess.” He smiled at Alya and took a bite out of his own sandwich before passing it to her. “I have a gig later today in London, and I’m super pumped.”  
Alya smiled at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. They saw each other less after Nino had decided to drop out and pursue a music career full time, but the picture-perfect couple was still going strong.  
“That sounds great! Bring me back a souvenir?”  
“Anything for you, Mari.”  
She laughed and leaned on Luka’s shoulder. He leaned his head on top of hers and grabbed her hand.  
“We can go there together one day, you know.”  
She pulled back and smiled at him. “As appealing as you serenading me in yet another city is, I’ve got to pass.”  
She squeezed his hand as he smiled at her, his blue eyes almost leaving her speechless.  
Eyes. The eyes in her dream weren’t blue, they were green. She sat for a moment before Luka waved a hand in front of her face.  
“You okay?”  
“Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah! Totally. Just...haven’t eaten much today. That’s all.” She took a way too big bite  
of her sandwich, definitely assuring Luka that she was totally mentally sane.  
“She’s been out of it all day. Maybe tests are finally stressing her out.” Alya raised her drink in Mari’s direction, the charms that Mari had given her clinking against the glass.  
“She's right, you know.” Luka grinned and clinked his lemonade against hers, squeezing her fingers. “We can’t all be as naturally gifted as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”  
She giggled and raised her glass along with the group. “Try not being late to literally anything, then we can talk.”


	3. yes, somebody’s stuck in my head

Chapter Three // yes, somebody’s stuck in my head

White flowers, rain, and a pink dress. Mari spun her head around, her feet barefoot and resting on the wet ground. Her hair fell around her face, and she turned her head up, glimpsing the moon through the raindrops. She swished her hand through the air, spinning the purple specks of something away from her. The specks hung everywhere around her, suspended in the air.  
Again? She stood up and clutched the skirt of her dress, the sheen of it catching in the pale moonlight that lit up whatever hidden dreamscape she was in.  
Butterflies rose around her, more than there were the last time, and purple dust fell off their wings, dusting her arms with a glow. It streaked her dress and clung in her hair, making her by far the brightest thing in this field. They tousled her hair and she almost reached out to touch one before she saw him.  
She stepped over to him this time and peered at his face. He was taller than her, with peach lips and the most gleaming eyes she’d ever seen. She reached out to touch him before drawing her handbag, her fingerling tingling in what was definitely the butterfly dust, not want.  
“Marinette,” she said. “Although, from our last encounter, I think you already know that.”  
“It’s true,” said the boy. “I do know.” He held out his umbrella over her head, letting the rainfall around them. His eyes danced in the moonlight, and she almost forgot what she was here to do. Almost.  
She pushed back the beating of her heart in her throat before stepping back. “You know my name. Shouldn’t I know yours?”  
“Oh, that.” The boy reached out his hand and she hovered over it, just for a second, before dropping hers to her side.  
“Sorry, I don’t trust strangers.”  
“Please, Marinette.” He gave her a smile as butterflies rose up around him, framing his face. “We’re not strangers. I know you”  
Her eyes widened. She knew they weren’t. She felt it, she knew him. They were like old friends that have known each other for their entire lives.  
“We don't, I don’t even know your name.” She brushed her hair back off her shoulder again, flustered, but still holding his gaze.  
“That, again?”  
She nodded.  
“It’s A-”  
She sat up in bed again, this time, in the moonlight. Her trap door held open, and her hand was placed on an opened notebook. She peered at her still lit phone, Luka’s sleeping form showing up through the face chat. She pressed her feet onto the cold wood floor, rubbing her arms from the cold. She reached up and moved to pull to door closed, the wind blowing the blankets that hung around her legs.  
“Ugh!” She smacked a hand into her pillow. “I was so close!’  
A butterfly rose up from behind her, twirling around her face before she let it out into the Parisian night.  
“Who are you, A?” The butterfly danced in the almost full moon, dusting her nose with purple dust before disappearing into the night. “And what do you want from me?”  
She settled back under the covers, but she knew it was going to be pointless falling asleep. Despite her overwhelming urge to try, she didn’t know what she was doing.  
But she was thinking about him. His smile, his eyes, and the way that one strand of hair kept falling onto his forehead. The boy with no name. She groaned into her pillow and looked up, catching the glow of the phone screen.  
She stared at Luka, his chest rising and falling with every breath. She squinted at him. She loved him, not some boy that her nutcase mind had made up.  
Unless it hadn’t. Mari curled her fingers into her blanket and pulled it around her shoulders, shutting off the phone with a huff. What if he was real.


	4. lies, telling you that i’m alright tonight

“Okay, you look terrible.” Chloe grabbed onto her elbow as she headed up the stairs, her white bag bumping against her white shorts. “I left some of my products behind last time with good reason, babe. Those eye bags are not doing you any favors.”   
Mari shot her a glare. It was true. Today she finally had the time to get decently ready, but she had wasted it staring at the ceiling with hopeless despair. She had shrugged on some shorts and a tank top at the last minute, but it was nothing compared to the flowing white top with bell sleeves and lace-up front that Chloe had on. She had pulled her hair into messy pigtails this time, and she could see some stragglers waving around in the corner of her eyes.   
“Oh, hush, Chloe. She doesn’t look that bad,” piped in Sabrina from behind, throwing up her orange hair into a bun. She had on a short-sleeved collared shirt and long, fitted pants, and a huge personal upgrade from that horrible sweater vest.   
“But seriously, are you okay?”  
“Shoo, Chloe.” Alya stood in front of them, her flowing pants swishing around her ankles. “Lila’s having a fit in the art classroom and I bet you would love to see it.”   
“Hm, Cesaire, my love for drama saves you once again from being alone. Hurry up, Sabrina.”   
She walked away in a flick of golden hair, Sabrina hurrying up the stairs behind her.   
“Bye,” she gave them a wave before vanishing into the school.   
“Alya, I love you, but you’ve got to be nicer to Chloe.”  
“I’ll put in the effort when she decides to do the same.” Alya flashed her a smile, but it dropped as her eyes flicked her up and down.   
“I’m all for dressing how you want to dress, but you look like a wreck. I hate to agree with Chloe, but it’s true.”   
Alya’s eyes widened and she pulled her closer.   
“Something didn’t happen between you and Luka, right? Because you seemed a bit standoffish yesterday-”   
“A reporter never stops digging, huh?” Mari brushed off Alya’s hand and narrowed her eyes. “Luka and I are fine. And I’m not standoffish.” Mari rubbed her eyes until she saw spots, leaning against her locker. “I’m just tired. My dreams are keeping me up all night when they should be doing the opposite.” She faced her lockers and rested her forehead against the cool metal, closing her eyes.   
A butterfly flew out from underneath her nose, and she jumped back, screeching.   
“They’re following me!”   
Alya yanked her back and stared into her eyes. She placed a palm on her forehead and held onto her hand. “Are you okay? Do I need to call Sabine?”   
Marinette groaned and brushed her hand off, her eyes darting around the courtyard. She couldn’t see the butterfly, and she seemed to have missed the stares of her classmates as well.   
“She’s fine guys. Haha.” Alya yanked her away as she scoured the sky, wanting to see where all the butterflies were going to, but it wasn’t any use. That one was long gone. She pulled her into an empty classroom and leaned against the desk, crossing her arms.   
“Girl, you are not okay. Please, call home.”   
“No, no. Really, I’m fine. Just had a restless night, okay?”  
“Fine. But if you feel anything,” Alya placed a hand on Mari’s arm. “Tell me.”   
The bell rang overhead, making Mari jump.   
“That’s my cue,” said Alya, moving out the door. “Tell Luka what’s going on, okay?”   
Mari nodded and sat down in one of the stations, the rest of the class filling in beside her. Mylene plopped  
down beside her, her now fully pink hair handing in one braid down her back.   
“Hey, Mari. Oh, um-”   
“Yes! I’m fine! Why do people keep asking me this?” Mari clenched her fists on the wood desk before placing her bag to the ground only to find that she had forgotten to grab her books this morning. She let out a not-so-subtle groan and rubbed her eyes.  
Mylene gave her a struggling smile and flipped open her book, sliding it into the middle so they could share.   
“Thanks,” she whispered, returning the smile in probably a forced imitation of her normal one. She was running her eyes over the lines of text but stopped when she realized she wasn’t even really reading.   
She chewed on her lip, looking up around at her classmates. Did anyone here have green eyes? She squinted way too hard at Marc for an unsettlingly long amount of time before concluding that, no, she definitely hadn’t met him before.   
But then what was that feeling? A feeling of, well butterflies, and a tension that not even she and Luka had. Whoever that boy was, he had permanent rent in her head and she couldn’t seem to evict him.


End file.
